


Embrace

by paperxcrowns



Series: Brittle Heart [2]
Category: Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood: Lost Days, Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, But mostly cuddles, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Neglect, Fluff, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake-centric, and i shall deliver, i promised cuddles, love that tag, no beta we die like jason todd, these idiots get those hugs, this is just cuddles, with a dash of hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29202345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperxcrowns/pseuds/paperxcrowns
Summary: Jason feels guilty for trying to kill Tim and Tim is not havingany of itsort-of epilogue of the previous fic in the series
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Brittle Heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141778
Comments: 11
Kudos: 495





	Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be mostly cuddles. what happened???

To say Tim wasn’t at least a little bit worried that Bruce wouldn’t fire him was an understatement. 

He stared at his phone in this dark bedroom, his eyes reading and rereading Bruce’s text telling him to take it easy, that he wouldn’t be needed in the field until he was fully healed. 

It was just past ten-thirty and his parents were scheduled to leave the next day.

For once, Tim didn’t mind all that much that they were gone. It would mean fewer questions. But that was assuming they’d asked in the first place, not simply glanced at him without mentioning the sling for his dislocated shoulder and broken collarbone, or the stiff way he limped around due to his fractured ribs and the gunshot wound to the leg, or the painting of black and blue bruises on his face.

He exhaled, trying to force the shaking away from his hands.

Jason had assured him he wasn’t interested in having Robin back, but that didn’t mean Bruce wouldn’t fire him like he’d fired Dick. And Dick had been fired for less. 

The sound of his window being pulled open snapped him out immediately.

“Before you hurt yourself, it’s just me,” Jason grumbled.

Tim relaxed, though it was no longer as automatic as it used to be.

“Why are you here?” he asked, flipping the light switch. Jason wasn’t even in his Red Hood outfit.

“Oracle hacked into my phone and wouldn’t stop calling me until I picked up. And guess what? You’re benched, and she said it might make you feel sad.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I am doing fine,” he said.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “So I just came here with all three Mummy movies on DVD for nothing?”

Tim stood there glaring at Jason for longer. He was never going to say no to Jason dropping by his house, but he didn’t want to let Jason win that easily all the same.

“Fine,” he said. “We’re alone so we can have the living room with the giant TV all to ourselves.”

He limped for the door, not brave enough to turn and check to see if Jason was following. He’d been subjected to Dick and Bruce’s pity looks already. Jason’s would only hurt more.

“We have food in the kitchen,” he said. _“You_ came here, so _you_ have to get them.”

And Tim couldn’t walk very far without his crutches, and he wasn’t really in the mood to bother this late at night.

Jason didn’t answer, but Tim heard his footsteps behind him. 

It took ten whole minutes to reach the main living room, and by the end, Tim was using Jason as a crutch to avoid reopening the stitches on his leg.

“I’ll set up the moves,” he told Jason. “The kitchen is down the big hall, fifth door on the right.”

Jason didn’t jab or joke, which only mildly hurt. Tim had already long forgiven Jason-- he hadn’t been really holding him accountable since he’d found out he’d been revived via Lazarus Pit-- but the real task would be to make Jason forgive himself. 

It could have been worse, Tim amended. “The damage could have been worse.

He sat in front of the DVD player with the three DVDs in hand. He hadn’t watched the movies yet, but he was familiar with them. He’d planned so many movie nights with his parents, and every time he would try to find movies about archeology that his parents would like. They’d never had the time for a movie night, however.

Jason came back quickly, his arms packed with bags of chips and popcorn and Gatorade that Dick had forced Tim to buy. Something about electrolytes that Tim hadn't really paid attention to.

“You said your parents were home,” Jason accused, plopping down on the couch on the complete opposite side of Tim, dropping the snacks on the coffee table unceremoniously. 

Tim gripped the remote. “They have work,” he said. “They’ll be back soon.”

In three weeks. And then it was off somewhere again, to a new country and away from him.

“They’re always away,” he said in a careful voice. “How often are they here?”

Tim shrugged a shoulder jerkily. “Often enough.”

Jason wasn’t satisfied with the answer but dropped the subject nonetheless.

“Start the damn movie,” he said.

Tim pressed play, then scooted across the couch until he was close enough to rest his head in Jason’s lap. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jason asked, completely frozen.

Tim shrugged, eyes fixed on the TV. “Movie night means cuddles,” he said. “Dick said so. I’m disappointed you don’t know.”

“You’re gonna cuddle me? How the hell are you still alive?”

Tim only smiled and reached for the nearest Gatorade he could reach. Lemon Lime. 

“Who says I am? Maybe I’m just a very tangible ghost.”

Jason lightly pinched his arm. “That’s not a fucking answer, Baby Bird.”

Tim screwed up his nose, choosing not to comment on the nickname. “I can’t become a cryptid if I start answering questions.”

Jason drummed his fingers on top of Tim’s head. “Just give me the veggie straws.”

Tim complied and handed the chips to Jason.

“Thanks,” he said.

Tim almost snorted. “You don’t have to be polite. It’s weird.”

“Alfred taught me to be polite.”

This time, Tim actually snorted. He could count on both hands the number of new insults and swear words he’d learned from Jason and would need many more hands to list off the creative insults he’d strung together into one. 

“I already forgave your dumb ass, just fuckin’ accept it already,” Tim mumbled, attention drawn back to the movie.

Jason hummed distractedly. “We’ll agree to disagree. Watch the damn movie.”

* * *

Jason was still avoiding Tim by the time summer ended and he inevitably went back to school. Unlike last year, his parents were home the day he left for school, and his mom had even wished him luck on his first day, which had just brightened up Tim’s whole mood. 

Three weeks into the school year, Jason had barely talked to him outside of patrol. And that was perfectly fine with Tim. If Jason was going to avoid him, then Tim was going to find him. 

Which is exactly how Tim found himself at Jason’s apartment-slash-safehouse with his hand poised over the door, ready to knock.

He didn’t have to, the door swung open, revealing Jason Todd with rumpled bed hair and a wrinkled Wonder Woman shirt.

He stifled a yawn. “I was getting tired of waiting for you to knock,” he said. “What do you want?”

Tim cleared his throat nervously. 

Red Hood had patrolled Crime Alley tonight, from what Oracle had said, though Tim had been caught up with Bruce with an Ivy attack. Ivy had gotten away while Tim and Bruce had been saving civilians from a giant venus flytrap, as they’d told the GCPD. 

He hadn’t expected that Jason would go directly to bed.

“I was passing by--”

“No you weren’t. It’s two in the morning, why’re you here?”

He was here for Mission “convince Jason that he was forgiven”.

He shrugged. “I need help on my Algebra assignment,” he said, smiling as sweetly as he could.

“Right,” Jason said flatly, unimpressed. “Sure, and since your parents are away in Russia or Australia _again,_ you travel forty-five minutes on the bus to my place instead of asking literally anyone else.”

Tim shrugged. “Dick was in Pre-AP Algebra.”

Jason sighed. But stepped aside to let him in and shut the door behind him. Tim quickly wrapped Jason in a tight hug.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” he said brightly, ducking into the apartment as the words registered.

“Hold up, I _never said--”_

Tim pouted, dropping his bag on the couch. “You would send me back to my empty house with two broken ribs? That’s not very responsible.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at Tim. “I have no qualms about kicking you out of my house, so you better fucking behave.”

Tim grinned. “Aye aye, captain.”

“I see your mocking tone, and I am this close to letting you do your algebra on your own.”

Tim looked around. The apartment was small but looked well lived-in. There was the brown velvet couch where he’d dropped his two bags, one being his school bag and the other stuffed with the necessities for spending the night at Jason’s place. It was facing a TV mounted on stacked crates and there was a small coffee table sitting between them. 

The kitchen was attached to the living room, separated only by a bar lined with three stools. 

“You got any snacks?” he asked, heading for the kitchen. “Oh, by the way, can we use the…”

The kitchen table was stacked with manila folders, loose sheets, stacks of photos, and a bulky computer that looked older than Tim. “Kitchen table,” he finished dumbly. 

“Nope,” Jason said, smoothly sliding past Tim and into the kitchen. “I call it my case table. I just do everything else on the coffee table.”

“Okay, cool. So I can bring food and drinks on the couch?”

Jason pulled the fridge open and glanced back at Tim. “No, you’re not allowed to eat.”

Ah. 

Was Jason kidding? He had to be. Jason liked to make deadpan jokes like that. But then again, Tim had never been at Jason’s place, and he’d pretty much invited himself anyway. He didn't know the house rules here--

“Jesus, take a joke. You want ginger ale?”

“Uh, y-yeah, sure. Sorry, it’s just-- I’m not really allowed to eat on the couch at home. Or in my room, so I don’t get crumbs and stuff everywhere.”

Jason snorted. “Well, that’s a stupid rule.”

He tossed a can of ginger ale at Tim who caught it reflexively.

“Now let’s go over your homework and then we can go to sleep. It’s Friday and I intend on enjoying my weekend by _sleeping in.”_

* * *

Tim was sat cross-legged on the floor, Jason sprawled on his stomach on the couch scrolling through his phone just a few feet away and shooting him furtive glances on occasion. Tim was focusing on cleaning up the thin gash along his arm with some rubbing alcohol Jason had tossed him.

“Sorry about barging in like that,” Tim said again, just to fill the silence with more than just winces and hisses of pain.

“Shut the fuck up before I tape your mouth shut,” Jason growled, eyes still fixed on the phone, but the hand gripping it tightly shaking and his eyes glowing iridescent green.

Tim had panicked. He’d been patrolling alone for the first time since the whole Titans Tower debacle, and he’d been excited. Maybe a little too excited.

This was all on him. The cuts all over his arms and the bruises on his face were his own fault. He should’ve been able to stop the mugger easily.

He’d panicked, not really wanting Bruce to stop letting him patrol alone, so he’d gone to Jason’s safehouse, climbed up the fire escape, and shimmied the creaky window open.

Jason had glanced up casually, though, from the small handgun on the coffee table next to a full magazine, Tim could tell he’d been ready for an attack.

He’d jumped to his feet at the sight of Tim’s injuries and had come back holding a first aid kit and a small mirror and a warning not to bleed all over his floor.

“When do you need to get home?” Jason asked, focused once again on his phone. 

Tim shrugged. “My parents are away and Bruce isn’t expecting me back until at least an hour from now.”

Jason glanced up. “Oh?” 

The green glint was back. “They were gone last time you were here. You say everything’s fine, but are they?”

Tim shifted, then focused back on his wounds. He screwed the plastic cap on the bottle of alcohol closed and pulled out the box of square adhesive bandaids and taped them all over his arms. There wasn’t much to do about the bruises except put foundation when he’d go to school.

“Things _are_ fine,” Tim replied. “My parents work a lot, okay? And they’re gone a lot. I have a housekeeper. I can take care of myself.”

Jason snorted. “You do realize parents are supposed to be around their kids, right?”

Tim scowled, slamming the small plastic shut sharply. “Their work is really important.”

Tim heard rustling as Jason sat up. “More important than you? You’re their kid.”

Tim whipped his head up. “I’m important to them!”

Jason’s eyes were definitely glowing now. “I’m not saying you’re not. Just answer me this honestly. Are you more important to them than their work?”

“I--” Tim started. His anger was burning in his chest and behind his eyes.

Jason pressed his lips into a line. Tim looked down to blink tears away.

“You can stay here,” Jason finally said. “I’m assuming Bruce doesn’t know.”

Jason was assuming right.

“It’s really fine,” Tim assured Jason. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

Jason hummed, jabbing his finger in Tim’s chest. “Right. I’m sure your parents told you that. You know what? Kids aren’t _supposed_ to take care of themselves. I was twelve and could take care of myself on the street. Did that mean I was fine?”

Tim blinked and looked away. “It’s not the same.”

Jason scoffed. “Okay. while you take your time realizing why I’m obviously right, I’ll make you some hot cocoa. I think I still have some left.”

He stood up and stalked to the kitchen, leaving Tim to sit on the floor. He heard cabinets opening and Jason mumbling.

“You think your parents would agree to let me keep you when they’re gone?” he called from the kitchen.

Tim let out a startled laugh. He didn’t really know what to answer. 

“Uh, I don’t know,” he replied. “Probably not.”

“A shame, really.”

Tim smiled faintly. 

  
  
  


Someone was shaking him. He struggled to open his eyes in a panic, his throat raw from screaming. Wait, screaming?

“Kid, kid, hey wake up,” Jason hissed.

“Jason?’ he mumbled hazily, blinking blearily awake. “Wha’s--”

“You were having a nightmare,” Jason explained, sitting on the floor cross-legged. “Thrashing and yelling.”

Tim was much more awake now. “Oh,” he said. “Sorry I woke you.”

Jason shrugged. “I was awake. I don’t sleep well either.”

Nightmares from waking up six feet under the ground, feeling the panic as the air became thinner and thinner. Nightmares about the Joker and the warehouse. Nightmares about the Lazarus Pit. Tim was aware that PTSD often caused insomnia or trouble sleeping.

“Still,” Tim mumbled. “I usually don’t scream when I have nightmares.”

He used to, and as time went on, he would usually startle awake with a choked off scream or tears silently streaming down his face. Maybe waking up his parents and then having them yell at him, ground him, and even slap him on occasion had made him subconsciously stop screaming. He wasn’t sure how likely or unlikely that was, but he’d never really thought about it much.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

Tim rolled over, pulling the covers over his shoulders. “Lemme sleep.”

A hand slid under his knees and another behind his back and lifted him before he could even register what was happening.

He squeaked. “What are you doing?” he asked Jason.

Jason shrugged. “B used to let me sleep in his bed when I had nightmares.”

Tim looked at him quizzically and Jason huffed.

“It took a while,” he admitted. “And I probably ain’t going back to bed tonight, but you are.”

He set Tim down in the bed before climbing in next to him. Tim rolled closer to Jason and wrapped his arms around him. 

“Kid--” Jason started.

Tim ignored him. He set his head on Jason’s chest and smiled when he felt the steady thump of his heart and the hypnotizing rise and fall of his chest. He’d rested his head on Dick’s chest once, when he’d gotten a terrible case of the flu and his whole body had hurt so much he couldn’t stop crying, and he’d been wanting to do it again. It was calming and lulled him to sleep easily. He wished his parents would hold him like this. 

His body relaxed and he felt the tension in Jason’s body start to bleed out.

“I know I need to say it again,” Tim mumbled, interrupted by a wide yawn. “But I already forgave you. Just-- just want us to be like--” His mind was quickly slipping into dreamland. “Like me ‘n Dick.”

Jason’s chest stilled and Tim curled a hand in Jason’s shirt, already falling back asleep. Jason was Tim’s brother, just like Dick, and it was very important to Tim that Jason knew that. 

He smiled faintly before everything faded.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm keeping this short bc it's 2am and i am tireeeedd
> 
> [my tumblr :)](https://blas-ph-emy.tumblr.com/)


End file.
